Of Blood and Cement
by Demonic Flame
Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was not something Wisconsin born Azalea Blake wanted to do. Yet, in the wake of her father's death, it was more like something she had to do.
1. Profile

Of Blood and Cement

Summary:Moving to Santa Carla was not something Wisconsin born Azalea Blake wanted to do. Yet, in the wake of her father's death, it was more like something she had to do.

Character info:

Name:Azalea Blake

Age:18

Appearance:Black hair to her mid back, dark blue eyes. Pale skin.

Personality:Quiet, timid

Likes:Being outdoors at nighttime, dark colors

Dislikes:Brussels sprouts, her mother, her name


	2. Does it bleed?

_**Prologue:**_

_**A mothers heart like cement; tell me, does it bleed?**_

* * *

My mother and I never really got along. Mainly because I never forgave her for naming me Azalea, her least favorite flower. But my father, I loved him dearly. The sickly older man who my mother often described as a "bleeding heart" to all of the young lovers should would bring home when he was hospitalized. At fifty, he was ten years older then her, a man who loved a woman who did not deserve it. Though I always knew he was not my real father (for I looked nothing like him with his blond hair and bright blue eyes) he was the closest to a parent I had. The only one to watch out for me, the only one to raise me.

But now he is gone. For good.

Shockingly, my mother actually cried at the funeral. One single, lonely cold tear not much unlike her cold and frozen heart. How I loath that woman. Now, I am currently on the road to a place called Santa Carla. From what I know, Santa Carla has the highest recorded amount of missing persons in the world. Trust me, it was on a list and on the news in this past week. I have been developing theories in my head.

A) She's taking me to Santa Carla to start over.

B) She's taking me to Santa Carla so I will conveniently go missing.  
C) She's bringing us to Santa Carla so she can meet a guy who knows nothing of what a gold digger she is.

_or_ D) All of the above.

My guess would be D) all of the above.

Anyway, I am Azalea Worthington-Blake but I just go by Azalea Blake. Worthington is my mother's maiden name. So, I guess it's obvious as to why I don't use it.

From the corner of my eyes, I see the sign that says the words I already loath:

_Welcome to Santa Carla._


	3. Then and Now

**Blood and Cement**

**Chapter one:**

**Then and now**

Santa Carla was exactly as Azalea thought it would be. Boring. The only thing that really happened was at night. Parties. At the boardwalk, in the middle of the street. Santa Carla was a place that seemed stuck in the 80's or some other decade long past.

Just like them. Azalea had noticed them the first time she had walked the boardwalk at night. The seemed to be slightly stuck in the 80's themselves. At least their fashion and hairstyles seemed to allude to that. She remembered seeing seeing an old fashion editorial from the early 80's and they looked like they had walked right off the pages to stalk the boardwalk. It was weird. This place was permanently stuck in the 80's, as though time had stilled just before the new decade was ever reached. And yeah, that was a bad thing.

Compared to everyone else, Azalea stuck out. Her style was more 'now', compared to their 'then'. She didn't think this place could get any weirder.

But, like with everything, she had a feeling she was wrong.

The laughter from the living room was like an ill omen. Who laughs so soon after their husband dies? Shouldn't they feel pain? Feel misery?

Azalea sighed until as she walked towards the living room, until to stop abruptly. _They_ were there, along with an older male who was obviously the cause of her mothers' laughter. Her mother stopped laughing for a moment. "Oh, Azalea. Welcome home," her mother said, evidence of her laughter still present. What had happened to the old her? The one who was so emotionless, she was nicknamed Iceberg. Because, according to her uncle, "even an Ice Queen can melt. Your mother is more like an Iceberg then a Queen."

"I'd like you to meet Max, he runs the video store down by the boardwalk. These four boys here are Dwayne, Marco, Paul and David. Their about your age."

Azalea forced a smile onto her face, "How do you do?"

"Ah, well aren't you polite," the man, Max, stated, "I can see you were raised well."

"Oh, of course," her mother gushed, "she is, after all, a Blake. Blakes' are known for their pedigree."

"Not that you had anything to do with it," Azalea muttered under her breath. Ignoring the smiles that were on the boys faces, she sighed, "I'm off to bed. It's nice to meet all of you."

Her mother really was something. Something disgusting.

* * *

"Since when am I a dog? _Blake's are known for their pedigree,_" Azalea muttered to herself, throwing a rock into the ocean at the beach. Her mother was obviously up to something. Maybe she was trying to get with Max. The man owned what had to be the only video store for miles. He was probably rich, just the way her mother liked them. Emily Worthington was a known gold digger after all. She had "changed her ways" when she had met Jason Blake, Azalea's father, or so she said. Now, it seemed as though she was getting back to normal, right from the start of things. That was just like her.

How weird it felt! Knowing her mother was bound to use the guy made her want to warn him. But then, the weird feeling she had felt, that tingling in her spine, stopped her. The man, though he came off as charming, seemed a little too much like an actor to Azalea. It was a though he was playing a role. He could have been someone like Ted Bundy when no one was around. A serial killer who came off charming and held a deep secret. One that could cause someone's death. Maybe even Azalea's.

It was getting dark. Azalea had always liked the dark, yet Santa Carla's darkness seemed like it alluded to a far deeper and darker secret then she could ever grasp. It was as though something was hiding in the night. She shook the though from her head. The only thing Santa Carla night brought out was the crazies.

"Hey."

It was a man's voice. Smooth, seductive and deep. Azalea turned swiftly only to come face to face with one of the "Boardwalk Boys", as she had dubbed him. He was tanned with long dark brown hair and Native American features. Dwayne, wasn't it? The first thing Azalea had noted was the fact he was without the others. It was the first time she had seen him alone.

"Where are the others?" Azalea asked, already mentally slapping herself for the question, "I don't think I've ever seen you without them."

"You've seen us?" Dwayne asked as he took a seat next to Azalea.

"Yeah, on the boardwalk. Everyone seems to be rather afraid of you," Azalea replied as she grabbed a pebble from next to her.

"I suppose we have a reputation," Dwayne stated as he lay back on the beach, "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Getting away from mother dearest," Azalea replied, laying down next to him, "So, where are the others?"

"Around," Dwayne replied nonchalantly, "They needed to find something fun to do."

"Fun? In Santa Carla?" Azalea said before realizing what kind of thing would be fun to teenage boys, "Oh."

Dwayne looked at her, "Oh what?"

"Well, it's just," Azalea stumbled slightly over her words, "It's just, the only things I can think of that would be fun for teenage boys requires condoms."

Dwayne smirked slightly, "That's one of them. There's drinking and... other things."

"Why do you stay here?" Azalea asked.

"We owe Max. He took us in, took care of us. We can't just leave," Dwayne replied, "Besides, this place is like our very own territory. Like I said, we have a reputation here."

Azalea looked at him, shifting over slightly. "And because the girls are easy right?"

Dwayne only smirked.

* * *

The only good about Santa Carla was Dwayne. He became sort of a friend after their night spent on the beach. He was quiet, listened to her ragging on her mother without chiding her for it. Still, she couldn't bring herself to fully trust him. It was weird, but she still felt so guarded around him. Even after a week, she couldn't just let her guard drop around him. During that week, she had seen the boys on the boardwalk. David irked her slightly. He seemed so in control, so calm, so knowing. But then again, David was the leader. She didn't doubt that he knew all about her and Dwayne. Whatever there was to know, that is.

She hadn't seen Max since that night though. Her mother tended to be gone more often now. She moved fast. A little too fast in Azalea's opinion. It wasn't like Max was amazingly attractive like his four boys were. He looked a bit like a nerd... well, he more then a bit. Nights were spent alone. Azalea found she liked that more.

*Knock, Knock*

Azalea sighed to herself as she made her way from the kitchen, through the living room and towards the door. She opened it without bothering to check and see who it was. Only so many people actually came by. Standing in front of her was one of those people.

"David? What are you doing here?"

* * *

AN: I hate filler chapters. But, still, I need to build on to their mutual trust before she finds out about their deep dark secret. Well... yeah, anyways. Expect the next chapter up soon, probably one of the last before she finds out their vampires. Speaking of which, who do you think Azalea should end up with? Anyways, dearies, review.


	4. Visitation Nation

Blood and Cement

Chapter Two

Visitation Nation; Dine and Dash

"David? What are you doing here?"

The platinum blonde in front of her just smirked. He lifted his glove covered left hand and lightly shook the bag he was holding. "I'm here to deliver dinner. Your mother is staying with Max tonight and he wanted to be sure you had food," David replied, "Can I come in?"

"Sure, no problem," Azalea replied, stepping away from the door slightly as he stepped in. He made his way to the living room where the television was currently playing one of Azalea's favorite movies. He looked at the screen with a slight smile.

"30 Days of Night, huh," he asked casually as he started taking the chinese food out of the bag he had brought it in.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites," Azalea replied, sitting a few feet away from him.

"I see," David replied, "why is that?"

Azalea looked at him a little startled. No one had ever asked her why it was her favorite, to them it just was, no matter the reason. "Well," she started, "I like the way the portrayed vampires. It's different then most and it's nice to see some difference in the normal Hollywood portrayal."

"How so?" David asked. His eyes were so intense, so intimidating.

"Well, they're strong. It takes a lot to kill them and no one is running around waving crosses and tossing around holy water. It's just about survival for both parties," Azalea smiled slightly, "It helps that they aren't making everyone scared of their own shadows for no reason. I always hated movies where the humans are completely helpless to their adversary."

"So, if vampires were real, do you think they'd be like them?" David asked, his hands busy taking out the plastic utensils and chop sticks from the bag.

"Probably, in some way," Azalea replied, "Maybe they'd be as lustful for blood but I don't know how quiet about their own presence they'd be."

David just wordlessly handed her the pork fried rice he had bought.

The next day was just as weird. When she opened the door that night, she half expected Dwayne or David to be on the other side. Instead, it was the long haired blonde. The party boy who Dwayne had described as a wild child. Like the song, he had said, a real wild child. She looked at him with one eyebrow raised as he wordlessly held up the food he was holding. Today, apparently, it was pizza night.

They had ate in silence. Paul, however, would look at her every few seconds, grin his grin and then look back at the food. It was only after they had finished eating that he brought up whatever he had been thinking of during their dinner.

"So," Paul said, "Dwayne told me what you said." His voice held a mocking quality to it. Dwayne had said he would forever have the voice of a mischievous child, no matter the circumstance.

"About what?" Azalea asked confused.

"Condoms," Paul answered, causing Azalea to blush lightly, "but that isn't the only thing we do for fun around here you know."

"What do you mean?" Azalea asked, feeling a bit like a curious child.

She watched silently as Paul's hand dove into his pocket before pulling out a small baggy. A dime bag full of pot. He shook it slightly, "You want to smoke a little?"

Azalea just shook her head, "Maybe some other time."

Marko was next. His curly blond hair and baby face made him look like a angel. His sweet smile only helped to add to that image. But he wasn't an angel, not really. He was almost as wild as Paul but didn't act on it so often. Though wild, Marko was sweet.

"What do you want to eat?" Marko asked. He was the only one who actually wanted to know what, in specific, that she wanted to eat. Azalea just smiled at him brightly, "how about we go to the boardwalk and get a burger or something?" Marko had just smiled and lead her to his motorcycle. They made it to a diner Azalea had always ignored when she was on the boardwalk. It was always packed full when she was walking around for the sake of getting out of the house. She was a little dizzy due to his speed, but that didn't stop her from making her way into the diner with Marko.

They sat quietly before a waitress made her way over to them. "What would you like?" the waitress asked, her eyes locked to Marko. Azalea couldn't exactly blame her. She knew how handsome the boys were. "I'm grabbing something to eat later," Marko replied smirking at the waitress, "but I'm sure Azalea would like to order something."

The waitress huffed slightly before bringing her eyes over to Azalea to look at her expectantly. "Oh, just a cheeseburger please." The waitress nodded before giving Marko a smile and walking off.

Azalea watched as Marko stared after her before kicking him under the table. Marko looked over at her with a smile, "jealous?" Though she knew Marko was joking, Azalea only responded by kicking him again. "You know," Azalea started, "That waitress will probably spit in my food now that she thinks we're together."

"Oh," Marko replied, "I'm sure she doesn't care whether or not we're together." Marko gave Azalea a smile before adding, "after all, the girls in Santa Carla are easy, remember?"

Nothing was sacred among them.

Azalea felt herself blush slightly, "Dwayne told you I said that, didn't he?" Marko only nodded as the waitress returned with the cheeseburger and fries for Azalea.

Within thirty minutes, both Marko and the waitress had disappeared, leaving Azalea alone with her meal. When she finished, she realized Marko had yet to return. She sat there for another ten minutes before getting up. She slapped a five dollar bill down on the table before exiting the diner and looking for Marko.

Five minutes...

No Marko, no waitress.

Six minutes...

No Marko, no waitress... still.

Seven minutes...

Azalea huffed slightly before deciding to go looking for Marko. He was her ride home, after all. A small sound from the alleyway by the diner drew her to peer in slightly. Marko was definitely there, so was the waitress. Marko's lips were glued to the girls neck. Her back against the stone wall. Azalea decided walking home would get her there faster then waiting for Marko... and it did.

If she had stayed, Azalea probably would have notice the blood.

AN: The last chapter before she finds out, I think. I think there's been enough of them hiding it from her, I just need to decide how the girl will find out.


End file.
